At the laugh that escaped Macnair’s vocals, Basil felt himself flush again. He wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or pride, perhaps a mix of both. He’d never heard Macnair laugh before, much less inspire him to do it. Basil wasn’t thrilled that he was being laughed at, he supposed, but it was still nice to hear it. With a small huff the Ravenclaw narrowed grey hues. He could sense a challenge when he was issued one and the tone Macnair took with him then was certainly meant as such.

Basil knew better than to fall for it.

He did anyway.

Trailing after the Slytherin as Macnair ventured deeper into the forest, Basil drew his own wand and grumbled to himself. If he lost Ravenclaw house points for this he was going to be terribly annoyed. They had a decent chance at the cup this year and guess who was on their tail. Slytherin. Jogging to catch up, Basil grabbed onto Agrimony’s cloak and tugged the hood down with a smug grin of his own. “What are you hiding from your own shadow?” he teased. “Come on. What are you up to Macnair? I’m sure it can’t be any good and I’d like to know if I have to prepare any more healing spells for you before the fact this time.” Grey hues glittered with mischief. Basil knew better than to encourage this type of thing but... something about the Slytherin brought out a side to him that was more than just safe all the time.

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